DISCLAIMER: Inuyasha and all its characters are created by Rumiko Takahashi. I merely occasionally borrow them for my own twisted purposes.

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The taijiya knelt before him, naked, blindfolded, her hands bound to a limb above her head. Quietly she asked him, "Inuyasha, why are you doing this?"

Because of him. Because when the monk chose her, he had vowed to support that choice. As long as the man he loved was happy, he could live with it. But he couldn't face that look anymore. Something wasn't right between the monk and his lady, and Inuyasha, in his coarse, straightforward way, was going to make it right.

"I have my reasons," he replied, caressing her flank with his palm, carefully keeping his claws from her skin. The slayer gasped, an involuntary shudder running through her. 'Good,' he thought, 'it's not that she's incapable of responding...' He let his hand drift up her ribs and around, so that the pad of his thumb thrummed across one taut pink nipple. Sango shied away from his touch, and he moved in to capture the other rosy bud between his lips. Not letting his fangs nip her flesh, he laved his tongue over the sensitive tip, eliciting a low moan. "Do you like that?" he murmured against her breast, his breath ghosting warmly across the surface.

The taijiya bit her lip, violently shaking her head in denial, even as her body betrayed her. Tears leaked from beneath the blindfold as he rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Her shoulders shook with silent grief, and a single sob escaped her lips, "Why?"

He let his palm drift over the pale expanse of her stomach to play among the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs. "I could ask you the same thing. You like this. You do," he insisted when she made a soft huff of dissent. "And that's okay. It's normal. So why do you deny him?"

"But it's not normal!" Sango argued heatedly. "I'm supposed to be above all this, to channel my energies into discipline. And Miroku should understand that, he's supposed to do the same thing with his spiritual energies, he's a monk!"

"He's a man," the hanyou corrected. "He's a man, and he's deeply in love with a beautiful young woman. But he needs to know how you feel. He needs to see this," he said, cupping her and grinding his palm against her sex.

"I can't!" she cried out, even as she bucked against him, her body seeking the sensations his touch offered. "I'm supposed to stay in control!" He let one fingertip glide through her juices and settle on the nub of her pleasure, rubbing languid circles around and over it. "Please," she panted, shuddering at his ministrations, "don't do this, Inuyasha."

"Sango, love isn't about maintaining control. It's about trusting someone enough to give it up." The monk's voice came solemnly from the other side of the clearing.

The slayer's head whipped around as she sought him blindly. "M-Miroku?" A blush washed across her face and down onto her chest. "Don't look at me. Please."

"I shouldn't watch as my lover is being touched so intimately by my best friend?" he queried. "I shouldn't marvel at the response he draws from you? I shouldn't imagine you writhing and moaning under my touch? Sango, this is the most erotic thing I've seen in a long time. You are... breathtaking."

"But it's wrong," she sobbed, yearning but confused. "Isn't it?"

"Then do you want to stop?" Silence stretched between infinite seconds as monk and hanyou awaited her answer. She knelt before them, flushed and breathless with arousal, fighting years of training. The houshi broke the silence with a resigned sigh. "My love, pleasure is yours for the asking, but we won't force you." He reached out to caress her cheek, then untied her wrists. "I love you, but I'll let you go."

As his fingers fumbled at the knot in the blindfold, she held up a hand to stop him. "Please."

"Sango?" Miroku questioned, uncertain of her intent.

"Please," she repeated.

Inuyasha rose to his feet. "I should go."

"Please!" the slayer called.

Both men stared at each other. "Are you sure?" Inuyasha whispered hoarsely, hardly daring to believe. Did she truly want him to stay? And would his friend allow it?

"Please," came her tortured plea, as she reached blindly for them.

At Miroku's nod, the two of them shed their clothes, Inuyasha moving behind Sango to cradle her against his broad chest. He bent to kiss her white throat. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. He cupped her breasts once more, tweaking the nipples, and she squirmed back against his hard length, making him groan.

Miroku knelt between her thighs, tenderly parting the petals of her sex to lap at her juices. Sango mewled incoherently. "Ask," he commanded, smiling for the first time in days.

"Please."